


off to the races

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (he's not having a whole lot of luck though), (yes both), Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Deepthroating, Drugged Sex, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Grandmaster POV, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, POV Second Person, Protective Thor (Marvel), References to Drugs, Sakaar (Marvel), Sakaar Trash Party, The Author Had a Lot of Fun, The Grandmaster Is Also Having a Lot of Fun, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), eyyyyy fingerguns, infinity war what infinity war, no one else though, the most dubious, this doesn't have much of a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: The Grandmaster doesn't necessarilyplanthese things. Sometimes the opportunities just drop into his lap.All he does is make the most of them.





	off to the races

**Author's Note:**

> Someone - I believe it was [TheOtherOdinson](http://theotherodinson.tumblr.com) \- pointed out to me that I'd had the Grandmaster threaten to make Thor watch him and Loki a couple of times, and really was I going to just let that stand unfulfilled? The answer, apparently, was no, so I started writing this fic. And, as is my usual, I started writing this fic in third person limited POV with the idea that I was going to try writing from the Grandmaster's POV, because that just felt like what I should do.
> 
> Then I started writing, and rapidly found myself actively _fighting_ to not write in second person present. I haven't written a second person fic in - lord, years. The last one was in the Silmarillion fandom. But apparently this one really, really wanted to be written this way, so eventually I gave up and rolled with it.
> 
> I'm not sure if Grandmaster POV is creepier than the Victor von Doom POV I've written elsewhere, but it's probably up there! Which means it was a whole lot of fun. 
> 
> This is probably the weirdest fic ever to post the day after Infinity War, but then again, maybe it's the fic we need? 
> 
> With thanks to [my favorite beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) (my only beta), who has ridden along with me on this involved adventure into a land of...really dubious things.

It’s like this.

You’re of the opinion that when you’ve been around as long as you have (and, okay, most people haven’t, but that really doesn’t matter), it is vitally important to keep from getting bored. Boredom is just - killer. Number one cause of death for immortals. 

So: find your niche, do what you love, live life to the fullest, keep things interesting. Spend a couple millennia perfecting your methods. At this point - at this point you’ve got it down to a _science._

You’re never going to understand Taneleer. Hoarding his treasures and shutting them up in boxes to look at. All the _fun_ is in watching them go. Give them a little _nudge_ and see what happens. 

People are mostly people, which means they’re mostly _boring._ Every so often, though, you get a few real gems, regular _treasures_. Your favorites are the ones who think they can, you know, get on your level. Like you haven’t been doing this for - ever? Honestly, you’re not sure how long it’s been, you stop keeping track after a while. 

This one, though. This one is a stand out. He’s pretty, he’s smart, and he’s definitely plotting how to start a coup and take over Sakaar. It’s adorable. 

And once you got him into bed...worth the wait, absolutely. Very flexible. Little wiggly, but once he gets going - you’re definitely a fan. 

Also, he has magic, which does all kinds of fun, tingly, things to you. Fucking magic users is great that way: they’ve got this fantastic _buzz_ to them, an extra zing that livens things up. It’s - a serious turn on, a little like sticking your cock in a bottle of Arcturan Fizz. Which...you haven’t actually tried, but maybe you should.

Yes, this one is definitely a keeper. Sure, eventually he’ll use up - they always do. Then you will have to let your new kitten go (get it, because he’s got tiny little claws and adorable little teeth), which’ll be sad. You don’t get it this good more than once a couple centuries. It’s been rough since the last one died.

(What was her name? Maggie? Mascarpone? Started with an M. Or maybe a Z. Doesn’t matter.)

But for now - you’re going to do what you do best. Have _fun._

He says his name is ‘Loki.’ And he’s a very quick learner. 

Most importantly, he never, _ever,_ says no. He thinks about it - it’s definitely there, back in his eyes. Sometimes you ask Loki (Lo-lo, kitten, sweetheart) to do things just so you can see that little spark of defiance. You can’t help it. It’s _cute._ And Loki always caves eventually. 

He’s _perfect._

(Jarella! That was it. Sheesh. Not an M _or_ a Z.)

You spare a brief, fond, thought for her, then brush it away. Live for the present. _Every day like it’s your last,_ isn’t that what they say, and it’s probably _someone’s_ last on Sakaar.

Not yours, though. You’re doing just _fantastic._

* * *

Family is funny. Take yours, for instance - not that you’ve seen most of them recently. Well, there’s Carlos, but you don’t see him much, either - same planet, different worlds, etc. etc. And the last time you saw Taneleer you didn’t exactly part on friendly terms. You might’ve absconded with Taneleer’s entire collection of Coatati alcohol, which, since they’re extinct, he’s not getting any more of that. 

It’s not like _he_ was drinking it. Honestly, waste of good booze. 

Anyway. Family. 

“So,” you say, “tell me about this brother of yours?” 

Loki tenses. It’s not visible, but you can feel it. Of course, it could just be because you have him bent over a table with three fingers in his ass, but, well. Details, details. 

“I told you,” he says, with a bit of a gasp. “I barely know him. We’re not - _ahh._ ” 

Those noises are honestly amazing. You wiggle your fingers around until Loki makes another one. 

“So you’re not, oh, I don’t know, going to be _upset_ when he...well. Bites it?” 

There’s that clench again. You spread his fingers as far as they’ll go and Loki moans. Just gorgeous. “I,” he says, struggling a little. “I don’t…”

You stop and pat his hip lightly. “Go on,” you urge. “Don’t what?” 

Loki’s fingers flex like he’s trying to get a grip on something, somewhere. It’s cute that he thinks he can. “I don’t - particularly care,” he manages to say, and _boy_ it’s impressive that he’s trying to lie that hard, like you haven’t been sniffing out liars since, well, basically the beginning of time. 

It’s okay. This time you won’t call him on it. It might be fun to watch him squirm, but it’s not like you want him to _panic._

“Oh, good,” you say. “That’s a relief. I want you to be _happy,_ Lo-lo.” You curl your fingers down like _that,_ pointedly, to make Loki yelp. “Because, you know, he’s not bad looking. A little bit of, mm...I feel like we could make things work out, if you _did_ want to keep him around. It’d be - I’d _love_ to facilitate a family reunion.” 

“I’d rather - if it’s the same to you, I’d rather _not_ talk about this right now,” Loki says, strained, and how he’s still trying to get words out is pretty adorable. Trying to _object,_ though, that’s...less adorable. 

“Why not?” You ask. 

“It isn’t exactly - arousing conversation,” Loki says. You go ahead and give him another downward press with your fingers and he jerks forward with a breathless sounding moan. 

“Really? Because you, uh, don’t feel like you’re losing interest.” You study the rim of his ass around your fingers and decide that’s about good enough. Out with the fingers, and-

Oh, that’s _nice._ He takes your cock just _perfectly._ Takes almost everything, but you _like_ this, the way the shiver runs all the way up his spine and for just a second he clenches up before going limp. Putty in your hands. Gorgeous, _delicious_ putty. You really do have the best taste. 

“It’s just - hard to really focus on, on _you,_ Grandmaster, when you’re talking about... _oh._ ” He _really_ moans, then. Makes sense, given the fact that you’ve got his balls in your hand and are squeezing _just_ a little. 

You pump your hips once, nice and easy, getting a little warmed up. Loki’s pressing his forehead against the table and panting, and you give his back a rub. “Take it easy,” you say. “It’s not hard. Well-” And you can’t help it, you just _have_ to wrap your hand around his cock and say “ _some_ things are.” 

He doesn’t laugh. You’ll let it go this time, though it _is_ a little disappointing. 

“Anyway,” you say, getting a good grip on his hips so you can really, you know, get going. “It’s a thought. You should think about it. I’m thinking about it. Actually, I kind of like the idea. Reuniting estranged siblings! It’s so - _touching._ ” 

You can almost hear the gears turning in his brain. Looking for the catch, maybe. Or else he really _doesn’t_ care about Sparkles, in which case he’s probably looking for a way to ix-nay the idea without sounding like he’s ix-naying anything. 

It doesn’t really matter. You’ve already made up your mind. But it’s fun to see what he’ll do. 

“Of course - of course if it’s what _you_ want, Grandmaster…” 

“Ah,” you say, pulling out enough so you can give him a little smack on that tight ass of his. “We’re not talking about what I want. I was looking for _your_ input, sweetheart.” 

_Click click click._ There go those gears again. “I suppose if it was - if you didn’t mind the loss of a contender…”

“Oh, darling,” you say, grinning even though he can’t see it. “Anything for you.” You slide back in, all the way, with just a bit of a grunt. “Though I might - have to ask you to do a little something for me. You know, since I _would_ be losing a potential contender.” 

“What’s - what’s that?” 

“Give me a little time to think,” you say. “I’ll come up with something.” You’ve already got a bit of an idea, actually, but Lo-lo, you give him too much time to think about things and he gets so _twitchy._ Sometimes it’s better not to give him the chance. 

But that’s all the future. 

“Now,” you say, “where were we again?” 

You fuck him until he howls. He tries so hard _not_ to that it’s just impossible not to take the challenge. And, honestly, it’s like he’s just _made_ for this. 

Every so often the universe is very nice to you. You leave him tucked in bed passed out and probably sore and crook your finger at the nearest person - servant? You think they’re a servant - passing by.

“Hey, you there,” you say. “Go find Topaz, tell her that I want the new guy, Sparkles - Thor? Moved into...uh. Let’s say 1402. Got that?” 

“I’m not,” he starts to say, but you frown and he skedaddles fast. On second though, he might’ve been one of your guests. 

Huh. Oh well.

* * *

There’s some stuff that needs doing, naturally, before you get around to greeting your transplant. He doesn’t look happy to see you. _Un_ happy to see you, really. Un _grate_ ful. 

“What am I doing here,” he growls. It’s not a bad growl. Still, you frown.

“Looks like Lo-lo got all the charm in the family,” you say reproachfully. 

He stares at you. Rude again. He’s really accumulating black marks, and you’ll feel so bad if you have to throw him back into the arena after telling Loki you wouldn’t. He’ll be sad. He might even _cry_. You hate it when people cry, it’s just so - _depressing._

“Lo - _what?_ ” He says. 

“You know,” you say. “Your, uh - brother? Adopted brother? It got a little unclear in there.” Still just staring at you. “Tall drink of water, black hair, killer cheekbones. Do you have more than one?” 

He twitches a little, like you hit him with the obedience disk. (He’s still got that on. You’re not _stupid_ and getting punched would - well, you’d probably have to melt him, which would be such a waste of a good game.) 

“What did you call him?” 

“Lo-lo,” you say. “Loki. You’re - you’re really a little slow on the uptake, aren’t you?” 

He takes a step toward you like he thinks you’re going to be threatened by his big muscles and scowly face and sparkly fingers. Okay, okay. He’s not your type but he’s not _not_ your type. “Where is he? I want to talk to him.” 

“Ah,” you say, holding up a finger. “See, that’s - that’s going to have to wait. You’re all riled up right now, and Lo, he’s such a _delicate_ little creature. I wouldn’t want to risk any, ah, mishaps.” 

Sparkles lunges like he’s going to grab you and _well,_ can’t have that. Down he goes. “Goodness,” you say, looking down at him while his eyes roll in your direction. “See, this - this is the problem. I need to know you’re going to be _nice_ before you get visiting hours. See?”

He doesn’t answer. Probably can’t, yet, it can get a bit hard to talk. You give him a second anyway. 

“See, um. Lo-lo and I have come to a kind of - arrangement, type, thing. And it’s really important to me that you not, you know, get in the way of that. Because I like him a lot, I do, and he vouched for you-”

Thor looks surprised. “He did?” Interesting, interesting. Little bit of conflict, there’s definitely a story here, you’d _love_ to find out what it is. Table that. You can probably get at least some of it out of Loki later. He’s very talkative when he’s drunk. Add a little juice from one of those green fruits R&D engineered and he’ll never stop. 

“Sure did,” you say. “Isn’t that nice? I’d hate to think he was, uh, misleading me about anything, though. He might be cute but I have to draw the line _somewhere._ ” 

Now he actually looks a little uncertain. He doesn’t like that. This is going to be even better than you thought. “What are you saying,” he says.

“You don’t really need me to spell it out more than that, Sparkles, do you?”

He stands up again, but slowly. “I would like to speak to Loki,” he says, but more carefully this time, and after a second where you just look at him expectantly, adds, “ _please,_ ” like he’s going to choke on it. 

Just _adorable._

“Nope,” you say. “Sorry. I want you to get a chance to, ah, settle in, first. Yeah? Then...well, we’ll see what happens.” 

His hands ball into fists. You give him a minute to sort through what he’s feeling about that and decide what he’s going to do about it. 

“Fine,” he says, through his teeth. “I’ll just - do that.”

“Marvelous,” you say, beaming at him. “I think we’re going to get along famously.” 

* * *

“I’m _so_ sorry, sweetheart,” you tell Loki, giving him your best ‘sympathetic’ face. “Sparkles says he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Oof. He does pretty well at hiding it, but that stings. He shrugs, though, putting on a brave face. 

“Ah, well. I don’t know how much there was for us to say to each other, anyway.” You’re curious if he’s going to go ahead and check for himself anyway - that nifty projection trick he thinks you don’t know about. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. You think probably ‘won’t’, though. He’ll want to show how much it doesn’t matter to him, because it does matter to him.

That’s your kitten. Pretty little bundle of repression and insecurity and minimal self-worth. Love it. 

“So ungrateful,” you say, clicking your tongue. “Doesn’t he know how much of a favor you’re doing him?” 

“I hope he was not...too rude to you,” Loki says. Nervous. You wave a hand.

“No, no,” you say. “He was great. I’m just thinking of _you,_ Lo. You must be so - _disappointed._ ” 

“It really is fine,” he insists, though the mask wobbles a little. “I don’t need to talk to him. In fact, I’d rather not. You can probably tell now that we have almost nothing in common.” 

“True, true,” you say, and reach out to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “I have to say, I think I’ve got the better one here.”

He practically lights up. Oh, yep. You guessed that one right. “I’d hope you’d think so,” he says, eyebrows arched. You sidle up and run your hands over his chest. 

“For _sure,_ ” you assure him. “I mean, just look at you. _Mmm._ ” He lets out a breath, lips parting, and you tap your finger against his nose. “Don’t look like that. You _know_ how tempting that is, and I just don’t have the time right now.” 

He gets his face under control fast. “I wasn’t-”

“Shh, shh,” you say, moving your finger to lay against his lips. “It’s fine! I don’t mind. Just...later, sweet thing, all right? Save it for later. I’ll go and then come back and we can, um. I’m thinking some fruit, some whipped cream, a feather, some light bondage...not necessarily in that order, we can improvise a little.” 

Loki’s got a little bit of that look on his face like he can’t decide if it’s wrong how much he’s into that idea. It has to be _exhausting,_ thinking that much about simple pleasure. Why he can’t just go with it…

Well, you’re working on that. 

“I’ll...plan on it,” he says, a little faintly. 

“Good,” you say. “And don’t you worry. We’ll bring your brother around.” 

* * *

Topaz thinks you’re obsessed. 

“You’re obsessed,” she says. 

“I don’t like that word,” you tell her. “It’s such a - _negative_ word.”

“First _that_ one,” she says, meaning Loki. Topaz doesn’t like your kitten. She thinks he’s not trustworthy, which, obviously he’s not, that’s part of why he’s _fun._ You love Topaz, honestly, but sometimes she’s a little bit of a downer. “And now this ‘Lord of Thunder.’”

“Topaz, Topaz,” you say. “What’s the problem? I’ve got it all under control.” 

“I don’t like it,” she says. You wouldn’t let anyone else talk to you like that, but Topaz, she’s - special. You do pout at her, though.

“You don’t think I can handle them?” 

She frowns. “Of course you can. That doesn’t mean you should _have_ to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, even though you won’t. Topaz knows that means you don’t want to talk about it anymore, though, so she lets it go. “Anyway, I’ve got an ask for you. Can you get this to Sparkles, please?”

You wrote the note yourself. You’re very proud of it. _Dear Thor,_ it says. _I’m having a little get-together tonight and Lo-lo just begged me to invite you, and I do hate to say no to him. So here’s your invitation! Please come, Lo-lo would be so disappointed if you didn’t. So would I, actually. But remember to behave! xoxo the Grandmaster._

Your signature has a marvelous flourish, if you do say so yourself. Just in case he has trouble reading it, though, you add your name in print underneath. 

Topaz takes the letter, looks at you, then back at the letter. You give her a dazzling smile, and she sighs and heads off. 

There, you think. All the pieces in place. This should be good. (You hope it’ll be good. It’ll be so disappointing if it isn’t, and you hate being disappointed, it’s really just - the worst.)

You check the time. There’s a whole afternoon ahead of you. Maybe you should go get a massage. That sounds nice. 

* * *

The party comes around, and you roll in late. Catch Loki’s eye and go right over. 

“Hey, sweet thing,” you say, plucking his half empty glass from his hand and drinking the rest of it. “Let me make you something better.” 

“Better?” He says, with a bit of a smile, raised eyebrows. You wink at him. 

“Everything I do is better,” you say, and sneak a light smack on his ass on the way to the bar, just to make him jump.

You make Loki’s drink yourself. Only the good stuff. You don’t want him getting cold feet, here, that’d be such a downer, that kind of thing, and it’s not like it’s anything he wouldn’t want anyway. 

“Drink up,” you say with a smile and a caress, and Loki turns his head to kiss your wrist before taking the drink in his delicate fingers. You could just drag him to a bedroom right now. Or not, it’s not like anyone would _care_ if you fucked him on the couch. A fair number’d probably enjoy it.

Patience, you remind yourself. There are things worth waiting for. 

So you turn him loose, let him make the rounds and - _marinate_ a little. You make the rounds yourself, sneak a few nibbles, pick up a drink, swap it for another one. Seylah’s acting needy, which is just - so obnoxious, you make a note at the back of your mind to do something about that. 

Scrapper-142 snuck in and is walking off with three bottles of your stash. You catch her eye and wave, just to show you noticed. Such a good girl. Not quite your _type,_ but if Topaz ever has to retire, maybe she’d take a promotion. 

It’s a thought. Maybe Topaz wants an assistant. You’ll float the idea in her direction.

Later, though. 

By the time you circle back to Loki, he’s smiling, all that tension and stress slipped away. “Lo, sweetheart!” You call, and he turns around, adorably startled. You glide up to him and put your hand on his arm. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Marvelous,” he says, a little breathless. “You do know how to throw a party, Grandmaster.” 

“Of course I do,” you say. You’ve never been about false modesty. “The best. Want to give us a kiss?” 

He laughs. “Do you have to ask?” He says, which - yeah, you can hear the double meaning there, but you’ll let it go. He’s _Loki,_ he wouldn’t be your sweet little kitten if he didn’t push a little. 

Still, just for that, you’re not going easy. You lean in and just - go for it, teasing your tongue into his mouth, hand in his hair, lay it on him and make sure he knows just how much you own him, right now. He’s _yours._ Well, everything here is, but some people need a reminder. 

When you let him go, Loki stumbles a little. “Upsy-daisy,” you say, catching him before he tips over. “Little bit - unsteady, there?” 

“You do that,” he says. Double meaning again. Clever boy. 

“Can’t help it,” he says. “With what you do to _me,_ I mean...how am I ever supposed to keep my hands off you?” 

Like you knew it would, his breathing snags at that line. He blinks at you, licks his lips and now you’re thinking about what that tongue can do, and okay, maybe not _just_ a line, it _is_ hard not to just...get right down to it, right here.

You check the time. All right, you’re probably good now. He’s nice and wound up, you can get things started.

You lean forward, tracing the angle of his jaw.

“You and me,” you murmur in Loki’s ear. “Let’s put on a show. What do you say?”

He shivers. His pupils are just huge, almost eating up that lovely greyish-green-blue color, and he sways toward you. “Now?” 

“Sure,” you say, drawing him in even closer, sliding your hands down over his ass and squeezing so he jumps. “Why not?” 

He licks his lips, but he’s pretty far up there now and besides, he never says no. He doesn’t this time, either, just bobs his head and leans in toward you. You kiss him, sucking his tongue into your mouth. He moans faintly, and oh, yes, this is going to be _great._

His clothes come off easy and it doesn’t take too long to get him naked in your lap, almost panting for it. Two other people have joined you on the couch but you keep your focus on Loki, sliding your hands up and down his thighs until he’s squirming for your touch.

The timing’s just about perfect for Sparkles to walk in. You see him over Lo-lo’s shoulder, because of course you’re positioned just right so the first thing he sees walking in is his naked brother straddling your lap. 

Very deliberately, you cup Loki’s ass in both hands and wink. Then you turn your head to nibble your kitten’s ear and murmur, “what do you want right now, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck me,” he says. It’s not quiet. You don’t have to look at Thor to see how close he is to exploding.

You hope he doesn’t. You’d _really_ like to get the chance to go through with this, and it’d be so disappointing to have Sparkles meet your worst expectations.

“Impatient, there,” you say. “Why don’t we start a little - um. Little more warmup, eh?”

He makes a hungry noise, pushing against you, and you run your fingers into his hair and give it a little tug, pulling his head back so you can run your tongue up his throat. “Shh,” you say, catching the eye of one of your guests who’s started watching. “You’re doing great, sweet thing.” You shift him a little on your lap so you can pull his buttocks apart, expose his hole for your guest’s - what’s his name? Devan? Defkan? no idea - tongue. 

The way Loki jumps in your hands with a yelp is just _perfect._ “After this,” you whisper in his ear. “After this I’m going to have him fuck you, how does that sound?” 

“Yes,” he exhales, voice raw, stuttering, and it could be an answer to your question or he could be responding to Delos’s (you’re going with it) work on his ass. 

“I think you should give _me_ something in the meantime,” you say. “Don’t you? While I’m waiting my turn. And taking such good care of _you._ ” 

“What do you - what can I-”

“Guess,” you tease, and Loki moans, pressing his hot face into your shoulder as Delos adds fingers to tongue. 

You glance over at Thor, just in case, who’s still staring. Warring with himself. He wants to do something but he’s not stupid. You’ve got Loki, after all. Right where you want him. 

In so _many_ ways. 

“How about another one,” you suggest to Delos, and Loki lets out a choking wail, he must be _so_ sensitive now, he’s probably right on that line between good and excruciating. It’s a good spot for him. He’s trembling, all wound up, and you are _hard._ Honestly, who wouldn’t be, this beautiful thing squirming on their lap. 

“Exquisite,” you tell him, and he shudders, and you know what, that’s enough build up.

You wave Delos back and push Lo down off the couch, between your legs, and sling one over his shoulder. His hair makes a great handle but he doesn’t need much steering; he takes your cock like he’s starving for it, spasming a little when you push him past his comfort zone but look, you can’t _help_ it that he has the sweetest hot, wet, tight, throat you’ve had the pleasure of in a while. So many teeth and acid salivas and just plain bad _sports,_ you just have to take advantage. 

You’ve got your eyes closed so you can savor the feeling for a sec, so you don’t actually see Delos push in, but you hear it - _feel_ it - vibrate through your cock and all the way into your belly, Loki’s thin, whining, moan.

That’s _good._

“Mm, sweetheart,” you say, because you believe in positive reinforcement, “very nice, just like that, those lips, that _mouth,_ love it.” Lo goes all shivery, moans like you’re the one sucking _him_ off. He just can’t get enough of that, seems like, there are _issues_ there but they’re the good kind of issues, the ones that make things more fun. 

Anyway, Loki’s getting you all slicked up with his tongue and Delos is fucking him like he’s trying to core Lo like an apple, and you can feel the ripples running through him while you slide in and out of his mouth so he must be doing _something_ right, and Sparkles is staring bloody murder at you. 

It’s kind of sexy, actually. You fuck Loki’s mouth harder, until he’s barely breathing, throat spasming exquisitely as he fights for air but he doesn’t even try to pull away, _oh_ you’ve got him well trained by now--

_There_ you go.

When you slip out of his mouth Loki’s head drops, his cheek on your thigh as he lets out a ragged little cry with every staccato thrust. You run your fingers through his hair and make appropriately comforting noises, moving your foot to rub against his poor, untouched cock. 

Very rude of Delos. You might have to do something about that. Later. 

“You’re going to come for me, Lo-lo, kitten,” you say sweetly. “Aren’t you? You’re going to come and then you’re going to lick it off the floor and I’ll suck the taste of it off your tongue.”

You’re not actually planning on that bit. But it _sounds_ nice, doesn’t it? Apparently Loki thinks so too, because he moans, rutting wildly against your foot until he comes. Delos does, too, and that’s going to be a _bit_ of a mess later but oh well, you can deal with it. 

It’s worth it, for the blurry, ecstatic expression on Loki’s face where he’s still leaning his head on your thigh. He’s gorgeous when he’s wrecked, he really is. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Ready for another round?” 

“Grandmaster,” he says, faintly, expression flickering with uncertainty. You smile at him. 

“Come on,” you say. “I know you can do it.” 

Just a tiny nod. Good enough.

You check, just in case. Thor hasn’t bolted yet. You’ll say this for the guy: he’s got gumption. Or maybe he’s just enjoying the show. 

Well, you’re going to give him an even better one. 

“Up,” you tell Loki, giving him a little tap on the shoulder. 

“Dizzy,” he murmurs, and you make a little clicking noise with your tongue, but okay, that’s fair. You _did_ give him sort of a lot. It’s always kind of a guessing game, with new species. You just have to make it up as you go along.

“Okay, okay,” you say. “I’ll help you out. Why don’t you - why don’t you close your eyes, kitten?”

He does, not even hesitating. That’s the good stuff. 

You’re strong enough to get him up, manhandle him onto your lap with his legs spread on either side of your thighs, chest heaving, hair disheveled, positively on _display._ You wish you could be watching this. Maybe later you’ll do that, have someone else where you are now, you could walk over to Thor and link arms with him and say _doesn’t he look like he’s having fun,_ because you _know_ he does. You’ve watched before and he looks _fi-ine_ getting fucked.

You sink your teeth into Loki’s shoulder so he arches, cries out. Benefits of you being, well, you, you’re already up for going again, and Loki’s little panting moans as you lavish attention on his neck (so sensitive, it’s really rewarding) are just making it - well, you were going to drag this out more, but it’s hard. You’re hard. Both. And okay, you _like_ a challenge, but you’re not really about that - self-denial thing. Well, sometimes, but not right _now._

He’s already stretched out. You _almost_ wish you’d taken first dibs but it makes it easier, lets you just slide into him nice and easy with barely any resistance. Loki slumps back against your chest with a little whimpering sound that’s just _delicious,_ his eyes still shut tight _._

You slide one arm around Loki’s waist and make sure to make eye contact with Thor when you give his shoulder a nibble. 

He’s going to flatten his teeth if he keeps grinding his jaw like that. 

You slide both hands up over Loki’s chest so you can play with his nipples until he’s panting again, then down to his hips where you can get a good enough grip to raise him up on your cock before letting him drop back down. He goes rigid, body spasming around you, and you’ll allow yourself to feel just a _little_ smug. 

You set up a nice rhythm, and sure, you’re doing all the work right now because Loki’s too far out of it to do much of anything, but it’s still worth it and you’re enjoying this, not just because it’s fucking with the Lord of Thunder over there but because it’s _good,_ it feels good and you’re all about what feels good. Not just for you, look at Loki, he’s feeling _great_ right now. High as a kite. 

And boy can he take it. No complaints, no protests, ass that doesn’t quit. _Oh_ yes. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you murmur in his ear, giving him a little nip. “You’re doing great. I want you to - can you open your eyes for me, honey bunch?” 

“C - I can’t-” 

“Uh,” you stop him. “What’s that?” 

His breathing hitches. He shudders, and you can’t see his open eyes but you _know._

“Good,” you praise. Positive reinforcement, again, and he _whimpers._ So good. So, _so_ good, and you’ve got him right where you want him in more ways than one, now, the way where he’s splayed out on your lap on perfect display for his brother and the way where you’re, well, getting a really marvelous fuck out of it. 

You can tell the exact moment when Loki sees Thor, and recognizes him. He clenches around your cock and makes this _noise,_ sort of kicked-puppy. You’d say it shouldn’t be sexy, but you passed _shouldn’t_ a long time ago. 

And anyway, you’re busy, bouncing Loki on your cock, watching Sparkles looking like he wants to kill you and also like he’s been punched in the stomach. You can’t help but smile at him. 

Loki lets out a wail that sounds like a mix of despair and desperation when you move him so you’re sliding against his prostate, shoving another orgasm out of him one thrust at a time.

“You’re doing so _well,_ ” you purr in his ear, loud enough for anyone listening to hear, and Loki moans, trembling. 

You come first, and fuck him through it. You think about leaving Loki on the hook, but dismiss the thought: he’s been good, you’re not going to be _mean_. It only takes a brush of your fingers to push him over the edge as well. 

Loki collapses back against you, breathing hard, a little hitch on every inhale, and you give him a nice, sweet, kiss on the side of his neck in the spot he likes, and look over at Thor. 

You can almost see him shaking. He probably wants to come roaring over here and snatch his dear brother out of your arms. Like he has any right to him. Finders keepers, and all that.

He doesn’t seem like the kind of fellow who’ll just roll over and give up, though. He’s going to _try something._ What that’ll be - well, should be interesting.

Oh, yes. You’ve got something here that should keep you entertained for a nice, long, time.


End file.
